The Dangers of Holy Ground
by SouthernChickie
Summary: Sequle to 'Rule Number One' There's a bank robbery in Seacouver, and guess who's right in the middle of it? Now Complete
1. That's What You Get For Being Late

The Dangers of Holy Ground  
  
Disclaimers: If you recognize them from the show, they're not mine and belong to whoever has legal claim to them. If you don't recognize them, then they're mine. If for some reason you want to borrow one, just ask.  
  
Author's Note: This is the third installment of a little AU I've been working on. To fully understand what's going on and who Rylan is I suggest you read this story's predecessors: "Hidden Secrets" and "Rule Number One" in that order. And as always feel free to leave reviews (positive or other wise are welcomed with open arms) for any story you read. E-mails are also acceptable if you feel the urge to do so.  
  
Special Thanks to my "Beta Listener" Alikara, thank you for sitting through all my stories! And also thanks to all the people reading and leaving reviews, especially Dawn N and Rachelle Ryan, who gave me the idea to go into the realm of the AU. I hope this doesn't disappoint you guys.  
  
  
  
Part One: That's What You Get For Being Late  
  
  
  
  
  
Richie snuck through the back door and tiptoed to the stairs.  
  
"You're late," Richie froze. "and judging by the way you're sneaking around, you know it." Richie laughed nervously and turned to face Duncan. "You're lucky Rylan had nothing to do and covered for you." He continued handing Richie an envelope. "Bank, go, now."  
  
"Mac, about this whole being late thing, I can explain. It's not I'm being irresponsible. . ." Richie stopped, sighed, and smiled weakly. "Bank, gotcha."  
  
"And on your way home, I need you to stop by the store to pick up some things for dinner." He added handing over the list he had made.  
  
"Mac, I can't fit all this on my bike." Richie complained looking over the list.  
  
"Then I guess you'll just have to take my car." Duncan smiled dangling his keys in front of the boy's face. "But if you don't want to. . . Hey, Rylan, can you do me a favor?" Rylan appeared in the office doorway.  
  
"No way, if anybody's driving it's me." Richie grabbed the keys out of Duncan's hand.  
  
"I want to drive." Rylan protested, not quite sure where she would be going but she would take any chance to drive the T-Bird.  
  
"You can control the radio."  
  
"Bagpipes it is." She smiled following Richie out the door.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie stood on his tiptoes and peered over the heads of the people in front of them.  
  
"This is going to take forever." He decided.  
  
"Don't look at me, I just wanted to drive." Rylan said eyeing the line herself.  
  
"Here," Richie handed her some money "why don't you go get us something to drink."  
  
"Okay."  
  
  
  
Richie chewed on his licorice and looked out the window of the bank. 'What's taking so long?' he thought. He turned back around and counted the people in front of him: eight men, four women, and a little girl who looked very interested in his candy. He smiled down at her.  
  
"Ask your mom if you can have some." He told her.  
  
She smiled and excitedly tugged on her mother's shirt. "Mommy! Mommy, can I have some licorice?"  
  
"I don't have any, sweetheart."  
  
"But he does." She pointed at Richie.  
  
"I hope you don't mind, I told her she could have some if it was okay with you." He explained. She looked him up and down critically. He smiled his most charming smile before biting into another stick of licorice.  
  
"Okay." The mother finally said. The little girl smiled up at Richie as she took the candy. "What do you say?"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome." He answered.  
  
The door opened and Richie turned hoping Rylan had finally come back. Instead a man in a long brown coat walked in; turning a key in the lock behind him. Richie quickly turned back around and struck up a conversation with the little girl in front of him, hoping the man hadn't noticed him. He looked up as the man walked past the line and to a teller window. The mother turned to Richie.  
  
"Who does that man think he is?" She asked angrily.  
  
"I don't want to panic you, but I think he's robbing the bank." Richie said quietly.  
  
"What!?"  
  
"Shh," He hissed "I'm pretty sure I saw him lock the door, with a key."  
  
The women watched as the teller quietly emptied their drawer and handed it over to the man.  
  
"Oh, my God. I think you're right." She snatched up her daughter's hand.  
  
Richie got an idea. He pulled the deposit slip out of his pocket. "Got a pen?" The women reached in her purse and handed him one. "I have a friend who should be getting back here any second." Richie scribbled on the paper. "I'm going to slip this between the doors, but I need you to call me back here like I was going to do something for you and you changed your mind, okay?"  
  
"Okay." The women nodded. Richie watched the teller as she began collecting money from another teller.  
  
"I'll be right back." He folded the paper in half and slid it between the doors.  
  
"Cole, never mind we'll do it later." The women called after him.  
  
"Okay." Richie shoved his hands in his pockets and wondered back to the line. He threw a casual glance over his shoulder and smiled to himself when he spotted Rylan watching him from the corner. "We're golden." He said under his breath.  
  
"What was all that about, Cole?" The man asked walking over to Richie.  
  
Richie frowned in confusion. "How do you know my name?"  
  
"Don't get cute with me. You know what I'm talking about." The man pulled a gun out of his waistband and pointing it at him. Richie instinctively threw his hands up and backed away.  
  
"Woah, dude, just chill okay?" He stammered. "I was just going to go get some drinks and changed my mind. You don't need to get all bent out of shape about it."  
  
"I saw you watching me when I came in." He waived the gun in Richie's face.  
  
"I- - I wasn't watching you, I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Like hell you weren't." The man sneered. "Everybody, I would like you to get against the wall, and on your way hand all your wallets to smart-ass here."  
  
"That's okay, I'm not going to get involved." Richie said.  
  
"Too late."  
  
. . . . . . .  
  
Rylan strolled lazily across the street, sipping the soda the cute store clerk had given her. She turned the corner and saw Richie in the doorway of the bank. A pink piece of paper flutter to the ground through the doors. She stopped and watched as his figure turned away, faded into an outline, and then disappeared behind the tented glass. Something wasn't right. She casually continued walking and as she passed the bank she dropped the cap to her soda, stopped, turned around, picked it up, and pocketed the paper. She slid into an alley and looked at the pink deposit slip in her hand: 'Get Mac' was scrawled across it. 


	2. Richie's Take On Immortality

Part Two: Richie's Take on Immortality  
  
"I really hate to do this to you baby, but you have to work with here." Rylan mumbled as she messed with the wires under the dashboard of the T- Bird. She smiled as the motor whined, then purred to life.  
  
"Lose your keys?"  
  
"Yeah, kinda." She looked at the pair of shiny black shoes under the door of the car. Slowly she looked up. "This isn't what it looks like."  
  
"It looks like you're trying to hot-wire this car." The policemen said.  
  
"One, I'm not trying, I got it started. And two, I'm not your problem. There's something going down at the bank. You need to go check it out."  
  
"Oh, really. Turn around, hands behind your head." The officer reached for his handcuffs.  
  
"I'm serious! My friend's in there. You need to do something."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie leaned against the wall. 'Why me?' he thought 'Why is it always me? How do I manage to do this? Every damn time something happens in this stupid city, somehow I get involved. I don't get it.' He closed his eyes and sighed. 'This is ridiculous. This is insane. Rylan should drop the immortal stories; my life is much more interesting. How many people get held hostage? How many people has it happened to more than once? The cops are never around when you need them. I hope they choke on their doughnuts, and spill hot coffee all over themselves.' He was torn from his thoughts when he felt a small hand find it's way into his. He looked down at the little girl, who was sitting next to him.  
  
"I'm scared." She whispered to him. Richie looked at the girl's mother who was sitting quietly going into shock and ignoring everything going on around her.  
  
"Everything is going to be okay." He promised her. He watched the man in the long coat pick and choose what he wanted out of various safety deposit boxes.  
  
"Cole, what's wrong with my mommy?" The little girl asked. It took Richie a moment to realize she was talking to him.  
  
"Nothing is wrong with her, sometimes adults don't know what to do when they get scared. But don't worry she's fine." He thought for a second. 'This kid is about to freak out.' He gently picked her up and put her in his lap. "Do you want to hear a story?" He asked. She looked up at him a nodded. "Well, a long time ago there was this village. . .in Scotland. But, the people that lived in this village weren't normal people, they were immortal. Do you know what that means?" She shook her head. "That means they can't die, no matter what. The immortals lived peacefully without any contact with humans for thousands of years. But as the human population grew, they moved closer and closer to the immortals' village. And soon they became neighbors. The immortals couldn't let the humans know their secret; they wouldn't understand and try to kill them. So, the immortals left their village and moved all over the globe to hide among the humans. Some immortals, the good ones, felt that they could blend in with the humans and even become friends with them. But other immortals felt that the humans were inferior and they should be dominated and used to serve the immortals." The little girl's eyes grew wide. "A big fight began between the two groups of immortals, and soon they discovered something. Something very bad."  
  
"What?" The girl asked.  
  
Richie smiled, "The village's close bond is what kept the immortals immortal. And now that they were divided as a people, there was a way for them to die."  
  
"How?"  
  
"You had to divide the immortal, by taking his head." The little girl's jaw dropped and a few adults that had been half listening to Richie's story gasped. "Soon there was a secret battle going on in the human's world. For the bad immortals the point of the battle was to kill all the good immortals so they could enslave the humans. The good immortals tried not to fight, but sometimes they had to. As the years went by, the goal of the battle changed. And the immortals' fight had only one rule. . ."  
  
"In the end, there can be only one." A deep voice finished. Richie looked up, he hadn't noticed the man in the long coat approach him.  
  
"You already heard this one?" He gulped. 


	3. Richie, Shut Up

Part Three: Richie, Shut Up  
  
The man clamped his hand around the back of Richie's neck. "You come with me," he said, "The rest of you are free to go. I'd like to thank you for your cooperation, and I invite you to re-claim your wallets and credit cards once we leave." The women snapped out of the daze and pulled her daughter to her. The man squeezed Richie's neck. "Ready?"  
  
"No," Richie answered.  
  
"Get moving!" The man ordered pulling Richie up. He scrambled to get his feet under him as the man pushed him toward the back exit. The man thrust a bag into Richie's hands when the entered the alley. Richie threw it to the ground at his feet.  
  
"You stole it, you carry it."  
  
"I don't care about that now," the man growled. In one swift movement his hand moved from the back of Richie's neck to his throat. "How do you know about us?" He demanded.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"I heard what you were telling those people." He pushed Richie against the wall and tightened his grip.  
  
"It's just a story," Richie insisted.  
  
"Bull shit." The man drew his sword. "I could kill you right now. Run you through and take your head. How does that sound?"  
  
"Sounds like suicide. You kill me, Mac's going to be all over you," he sneered.  
  
"Mac? So your friend has a name."  
  
'Damn!' Richie cursed himself 'Calm down and shut up, Ryan. Don't go blabbing to this guy.'  
  
"Mac from Scotland." A wicked smile spread across the man's face. "This couldn't be the famed Connor MacLeod, could it?"  
  
"No." Richie promptly answered.  
  
"True, he lives in New York, doesn't he?"  
  
"Yes." Richie cringed at the sound of his answer. 'Damn!'  
  
"You know Connor?"  
  
'Shut up, Ryan. Just don't talk.' Richie set his jaw and glared at the man.  
  
"If you know Connor, you must know Duncan."  
  
'Shut up, not a word.' He instructed himself.  
  
"Pitiful swordsmen, I hear. It's amazing he lasted this long."  
  
'Don't listen.'  
  
"He owns his own Holy Ground, and he's always hiding there. So pathetic."  
  
'He's just trying to get to you.'  
  
"Last I heard he lived here. Have you ever met the poor bastard? He's so weak, I bet even you could take his head in battle. Not that you'll get a chance to try, that pleasure is mine." Richie bit his tongue to keep from answering. "The only way he could have lasted this long is if he cheats. And we can't have people cheating can we?" Richie looked away, barley containing his anger. "Honestly, the man has no honor, he preaches about it, but lacks it himself. He's such a hypocrite."  
  
"Shut up, you don't know what you're talking about." Richie growled softly.  
  
"And I suppose you do?"  
  
"Damn right I do. Mac's no hypocrite. He's got more honor than anybody, especially you. He would never stoop to this crap. And he can kick your ass in a heart beat."  
  
The man laughed. "You have a rather romantic view of your friend."  
  
"What?" Richie demanded, appalled by what he thought this man way implying.  
  
"You mortals and your one track minds. I meant; before you idolize a man, know his entire story."  
  
"I know Mac."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"MacLeod." Duncan answered the phone on the third ring.  
  
"Mac! This guy is crazy!" Richie's frantic voice responded.  
  
"Richie?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"There's this guy, who robbed the bank, and I slipped about immortals, and then he- - -"  
  
"What?"  
  
Richie took a deep breath and dove back into his high-mileage rambling. "This little girl was freaking out, Rylan's stories were the only thing I could think of to calm her down."  
  
"No, the bank, what happened?"  
  
"This guy- - -" Richie was cut off.  
  
"Richie? Richie!"  
  
"MacLeod?" A new voice answered.  
  
"Where are you?" Duncan demanded.  
  
"St. Zeta's Cathedral." The line went dead. 


	4. Sanctuary

Author's Note: The French in this chapter was found through the help of family and friends. I speak no French, only Spanish and Japanese, so if there are any errors found by people who DO speak French, please leave corrections in a review or e-mail and I will seek its immediate correction. Thank you!  
  
"Ah, Ms. Noel so good to see you again. She's right over here." Stg. Powell led Tessa over to where Rylan sat handcuffed to a wooden bench.  
  
"Well?" Rylan asked expectantly of Powell as he fit his key into the lock.  
  
"I've already told you, I'm not wasting my time on another one of your wild stories."  
  
"It's not a story, I'm serious."  
  
"Ryan was serious about his swordsmen until he changed his mind."  
  
"Look at me." Rylan said angrily. "Do I look like Richie to you?"  
  
"You two tend to blend together when you start running at the mouth."  
  
"Tessa!" She whined.  
  
"We'll talk about this later. Right now, Duncan is waiting." Rylan immediately closed her mouth upon hearing Tessa's tone.  
  
  
  
"I'm telling the truth." She said softly as they stepped out onto the street.  
  
"What happened to staying out of trouble?" Tessa demanded.  
  
"I can fix the car."  
  
"That's not the point."  
  
"I know, the point is there is a potentially dangerous situation at the bank, and nobody believes me!"  
  
"Rylan, I don't want to hear it. Get in the car."  
  
"But Tessa- - -"  
  
"Rylan, ferme la bouche!"  
  
"I thought Duncan- - -"  
  
"Rylan!"  
  
"What's going on? Why are you so pissy?"  
  
"Rylan, obtiennent dans la voiture!" Tessa yelled. Rylan silently opened the passenger door and got in.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie shifted away from the point of the blade that was threatening to dig into his ribs. He felt the man's body stiffen, and the grip across his shoulders tightened. Duncan entered the cathedral and silently regarded the man behind Richie.  
  
"Richie, are you alright?" He asked looking at the gash across the boy's cheek.  
  
"Oh yeah, just thought I'd stir things up a little." Richie answered with a half-hearted smirk.  
  
"Leave him alone, he has nothing to do with the Gathering." Duncan told the man.  
  
"Not yet." The man held the blade of his sword at Richie's throat.  
  
"Hey, this is a church!" He protested.  
  
"He's right, this is Holy Ground. You can't do anything here."  
  
The man laughed, "That's the funny thing about Holy Ground. You and I can't do anything, but" he traced the tip of his blade from Richie's sternum to his navel "there's nothing in the rules about mortals."  
  
Richie's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. . . a second too late. He let out a frantic cry to Duncan for help. And stared in horror as Duncan made no move to respond. He felt everything happen in slow motion. He felt the cool steel slide beneath his skin and into his body. He felt his blood ooze out of his side, over his arm, and down his leg. The edges of his vision began to blacken and he leaned more and more heavily against the man behind him. He was vaguely aware that someone was talking to him. He tried to respond, but he couldn't form any words. He made no move to protest as he felt somebody pick him up.  
  
'Funny,' He thought 'I don't remember falling.' Then he lost consciousness completely.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Rylan sat stiffly on the couch with a book in her hand.  
  
"Rylan, will you listen to me?" Tessa tried to get her attention.  
  
"Tessa, ferme la bouche." She said not looking up.  
  
"Okay, I deserved that. But I can explain. I believe you. And I shouldn't have been so hard on you, you thought you were doing the right- - -" The phone interrupted her, "Don't move." She picked up the receiver. "Hello?. . . Duncan! What's wrong?" Rylan looked up. "He's where?. . . Oh my God, we'll be right there." She hung up the phone. "Come on." She picked up her purse and headed for the door.  
  
"What's going on?" Rylan asked getting up to follow her.  
  
"Richie's in the hospital." 


	5. Oops!

Richie opened his eyes and tried to remember where he was. 'Oh, yeah, the hospital,' just like he had been for the past five days.  
  
"Mornin' Sunshine!" a very chipper female voice greeted him.  
  
"You still here?" Richie asked in mock annoyance looking over at Rylan, who was draped over the chair next to his bed.  
  
"I went home, got bored, and came back. Brought you some stuff." She gestured to his bedside table.  
  
He picked up the book, "Little Women?"  
  
"Captive audience." She explained with a grin.  
  
"Still not going to happen." He put the book back down.  
  
"Oh, come on, Rich. It's good, you'll like it."  
  
"No."  
  
"Fine, here." She reached into her bag, and handed him two other books. "Your good friends Huck and Jim wanted to visit."  
  
"Treasure Island? I've been looking for his. Where did you find it?"  
  
"It's mine. That's your Huck Finn, though."  
  
"Oh, cool. . . so how'd the talk go?" Richie asked. He knew Duncan was planning on explaining immortals to Rylan, 'She's going to find out sooner or later' he had told Richie. And Richie wanted to get Rylan's reaction.  
  
"Turns out sex can get you pregnant." She smiled.  
  
"Really? I'll have to remember that." He answered dryly. "You did talk to MacLeod, right?"  
  
"Sort of, well, not really. I kind of got the coming attractions. Duncan's been a little preoccupied trying to track that guy down and, you know. . ." she held out her arm and pretended to threaten Richie with a sword. With a wicked grin he threw off the covers and knelt on his bed drawing his own invisible weapon.  
  
"I am Connor MacLeod of the clan MacLeod," he imitated "and I'm here for your head."  
  
Rylan shot up from her chair and met his gaze. They engaged in battle. Richie, who had had the benefit of watching Duncan, quickly gained the imaginary upper-head and plunged his 'sword' into her chest. She dramatically collapsed onto the foot of his bed.  
  
"Stick around," she rasped "I'll be right back."  
  
"Is this a bad time?" A grandmotherly voice asked. Rylan sat up and followed Richie's embarrassed gaze to the elderly nurse standing in the doorway.  
  
"No," Richie answered after a second "just letting out some energy in the most mature way we could think of."  
  
"Next time think of a less physical way, you are supposed to be resting." The nurse shooed Rylan off the bed. "And you are a bad influence." She scolded with a smile and wagged her finger at the girl. "I'm willing to bet that if I kicked you out, he'd do what he's told."  
  
"Aw, come one, let her stay. I'll behave, I promise." To demonstrate his point, Richie settled back against the pillows and neatly folded his hands in his lap. "See? I promise."  
  
"As long as you promise." She began checking Richie's vitals. "I must say, you are one amazing young man." She continued. "Not four days ago, we could barely get you to open your eyes, and now I can't keep you still."  
  
"I got a lot of rest, so now I'm full of energy. And I get bored easily."  
  
"Well, you don't have to stay in bed all day, but not so many big movements," she made a note on Richie's chart. "The last thing you need to do is pop your stitches."  
  
"Ma'am, yes ma'am." Richie answered with a grin and a solute.  
  
"I'm trusting you to keep him under control." The nurse said looking at Rylan over her glasses.  
  
"I thought you said I was a bad influence." She grinned.  
  
"I also said he was a man." The nurse whispered as she passed Rylan on her way to the door.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie wondered down the hall peeking into rooms as he passed. He was bored and wanted somebody to talk to. Rylan was at school, Tessa was out to lunch with a friend, and he didn't particularly want to talk to Duncan, so he decided to find somebody. He stopped and looked into a room belonging to a very bored looking young boy. He read the name on the chart outside the room,  
  
'Cole Graham, how very appropriate.' He thought, thinking back to the name the women had chosen for him that day at the bank.  
  
"You mind if I join you?" He asked stepping into the doorway. The boy looked at him and shrugged. "So what are you in for?" Richie continued approaching the boy.  
  
"My appendix exploded." He explained.  
  
"It exploded?" Richie repeated. "Dang, that sounds pretty bad. What'd they do?"  
  
"They took it out."  
  
"Did you get to keep it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"That sucks, would've been a cool souvenir." The boy smiled. "The name's Richie." He continued extending his hand.  
  
"I'm Cole." They shook hands.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Cole."  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
"You really want to know?" Richie asked with sly grin.  
  
"I told you."  
  
"True, you did." Richie held up his shirt to reveal the gauze wrapped around his abdomen. "I got stabbed, you can't see it, but it's right here." He traced where the wound was with his finger. "It's really cool though, it's all bloody and gross lookin'. Plus it's going to scar." He added, trying to figure out what had Cole so upset.  
  
"I'm going to have a scar, too." Cole said sadly. 'Bingo.' Richie thought.  
  
"You don't like scars?" Richie asked in exaggerated disbelief. "How else are you going to prove that your appendix exploded to all your friends?" Personally the idea of having yet another scar to add to his collection annoyed Richie. But, if it would cheer Cole up, "I like my scars. I think they're kind of cool."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Oh, yeah." Richie pulled up the leg of his sweat pants and put his foot on Cole's bed. "See that one?" He asked pointing to a small pink line on his shin. "I got that one when I crashed my bike."  
  
"How'd you crash it?" Cole asked eyeing Richie's leg.  
  
"I wasn't watching where I was going I guess. But I cut my leg on the kickstand. It got all green and pussy. It was nasty." Richie hoped that Cole was into the same thing he was when he was young.  
  
"Really?" Cole asked gaining interest.  
  
"Really. And I got this one," He turned over his arm and showed the scar on his wrist. "when I was working on a science project in fifth grade. Me and my friend made this volcano and it erupted before it was supposed to and burned me. That one got all blistery, then when the blisters popped, more puss."  
  
"Cool." Cole grinned. "Is that one pussy?" He asked pointing to Richie's stomach.  
  
"Not now, but you never know. How about you? You got any other scars?"  
  
"No." The boy looked away, embarrassed.  
  
"Well, you're only like, what ten?"  
  
"Eight." Cole corrected.  
  
"Even better, you still have plenty of time. It took me eighteen years to get all mine." Richie thought a second. "I guess it's a good thing I'm not immortal. No scars equals no stories."  
  
"Immortal?" Cole repeated.  
  
"Did I say immortal?" Richie asked in a hushed voice looking to the door. "Oops. Just forget I said anything, I'm not supposed to tell anyone."  
  
"Tell anyone what?"  
  
"About, you know" Richie glanced back toward the door. "immortals." He finished in a whisper.  
  
"You can tell me, I won't tell anyone."  
  
Richie looked at him. "You promise?"  
  
"Uh-huh," Cole nodded in wide-eyed wonder. "Cross my heart and hope to die."  
  
Richie got up and closed the door. "I guess I can trust you. But remember, this stays between you and me." He said sitting cross-legged on the foot of Cole's bed.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Only one? How many are there now?"  
  
"Nobody knows, hundreds, maybe thousands." Richie answered, happy he had cheered Cole up. "But they're everywhere. You might have already met one and just don't know it."  
  
"So what do they do?"  
  
"The good ones, they have jobs, some have families, some travel hunting down the bad ones. There is this one. He's been all over the world and he's lived for over six thousand years."  
  
"Six thousand?" Cole repeated in wonderment.  
  
"Last I heard, he was right here in Washington. But nobody knows where. He just blends into the crowd. He's killed over three thousand bad immortals."  
  
"Wow."  
  
"And when he finds good immortals he teaches them all these super old sword techniques, that all the bad guys have long forgotten, so that the good guys can beat them."  
  
"Does it work?"  
  
"Hey, we haven't been enslaved yet, have we?" 


	6. The Phone Call

Richie bent awkwardly trying to get at his shoes to tie them. He abdomen was more stiff than usual, and bending over hurt.  
  
"Let me do that," Tessa said entering his hospital room.  
  
"I got it." Richie tried to wince less noticeably as he once again tried to reach his sneakers.  
  
"How you doing, tough guy?" Duncan asked appearing behind Tessa.  
  
"Fine," Richie answered curtly, not looking up. Duncan raised his eyebrows and looked at Tessa, who shrugged. Richie had refused to make eye contact or speak to Duncan more than absolutely necessary for the past week. "Okay, I give up. Tessa, do you mind?" Richie said after a minute.  
  
"Of course not, I live to serve," she answered sweetly kneeling down, and tying his shoes for him.  
  
"Thanks," he said blushing lightly and standing up.  
  
"You ready to get out of here?" Duncan asked shouldering Richie's bag.  
  
"MacLeod, I can get it," Richie insisted.  
  
"No, I already have it covered. You sure this is everything?"  
  
Richie rolled his eyes. "Yeah."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
*Two Days Later At The Apartment*  
  
Richie sat cross-legged on his bed strumming his guitar. He stopped and wrote something in the spiral laying open in front of him. Someone knocked on his door.  
  
"Huh?" He grunted not looking up, he already knew who it was.  
  
"Hey, Rich?" Duncan stuck his head in the door. "Did Rylan say anything to you about being late today?"  
  
"Nope." Richie answered, still writing.  
  
"Because she's not back from school yet. Do you have any idea of where she could be?" Duncan asked trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice. Richie still refused to communicate with Duncan any more than he had to.  
  
"Nope."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Okay." Duncan turned to leave, but decided to give it one more try. "Any ideas for dinner?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
Duncan rolled his eyes, closed the door, and joined Tessa in the kitchen.  
  
"Well?" She asked searching through the cupboards.  
  
"The monosyllabic wonder strikes again," he grumbled. "I don't understand why he won't talk to me."  
  
"Maybe he's embarrassed," she suggested.  
  
"No, he's angry at me about something."  
  
"What then?"  
  
"How should I know? He won't even put two words together for me!"  
  
"You must have done something," Tessa said lightly putting her hand on his forearm. "Think back, when did he stop talking to you?"  
  
"Last week, after the. . .the bank thing," Duncan answered choosing his words carefully. "Maybe he is just embarrassed," he resigned, still not fully convinced.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie pushed his peas around his plate and half-listened to Duncan and Tessa talk.  
  
"Are you sure you don't know where she is, Richie?" Tessa asked looking across the table at him.  
  
"Who?" Richie asked, slightly thrown off by the direct question.  
  
"Who do you think?" Duncan snapped.  
  
"I already told you, I don't know!" Richie shot back.  
  
Duncan stared at him in shock. "Do you just speak a complete sentence to me? Tessa, did you hear that?"  
  
"Call CNN if it's so news worthy!" Richie sneered standing up.  
  
"Oh, don't get smart with me." Duncan warned standing up as well.  
  
"Or what?" He challenged. "What are you going to do, MacLeod?"  
  
"You'd be surprised." The threat in those three words sent a shiver down the boy's back, but Richie stood his ground.  
  
"Enlighten me." A strained silence hung in the air. Tessa stared up in wide-eyed panic at Duncan and Richie who stood toe to toe glaring at each other, silently daring the other to make the next move.  
  
The phone rang, causing all three to jump. Richie made it to the phone first.  
  
"Ry?" he asked.  
  
"Cole?" a deep voice answered. The phone shook in Richie's hand. Before he could respond Duncan took the phone from him.  
  
"Aldius?"  
  
"Oh, MacLeod, there you are. Very good, I see you've been doing your homework. I have a proposition for you." Aldius answered.  
  
Richie watched Duncan's knuckles turn white as he gripped the phone. Duncan's face paled as he listened to the man on the other line.  
  
"If you touch her, I swear. . ." his voice was too tight for him to finish his threat. He slammed to phone down and turned for his sword.  
  
"Where is he?" Richie demanded. Duncan glanced at him for a fleeting moment. That moment spoke volumes.  
  
"You stay here." Duncan said pointing directly at the boy.  
  
"Like hell," Richie moved to follow him. Duncan stopped him by grabbing his shoulder.  
  
"I can't be worrying about two of you," he said in an unexpectedly soft tone before turning and leaving.  
  
Richie stared after him, "Two?" he repeated. "Did he say two?" The words from Duncan's phone conversation ran through his mind 'If you touch her, I swear. . .' Without a word he grabbed his jacket and thundered down the stairs.  
  
"Richie!" Tessa called after him. By the time she made it downstairs he was gone, and the sword display was empty. 


	7. An Act Of Rage

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update. I got a little busy. Thanks for all the reviews in the while.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Aldius!" Duncan roared throwing the doors to the cathedral open.  
  
"Now, now MacLeod, this is a holy place." Aldius said calmly from a back pew.  
  
"Then stop desecrating it with your games."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie fit his pick into the lock of a back door to the cathedral. He felt wrong breaking into a church, but he figured God would understand. He opened the door and slid through. He could hear voices arguing in front of him. He slunk down the narrow, dark hallway trying to figure out where exactly in the monstrous cathedral he was.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Duncan drew his katana, "Come with me and we'll finish this once and for all."  
  
"We will, but first I want to finish her." Aldius began up the center isle. At the front of the church Rylan lay on the altar, unconscious. "In my day we made sacrifices to our gods before war." He continued circling the altar to face Duncan.  
  
"This is not a temple to Aries."  
  
"I know this is a tribute to the one God, but even he called for sacrifices, it's in the Bible."  
  
"No he didn't," Duncan argued, "Leave her alone."  
  
Aldius smiled, "This is not for the one God, this is for Aries."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie jimmied the lock to the door at the top of the stairs. The voices were arguing in hushed urgency and he couldn't make out what they were saying. He heard the lock turn and pushed the door open a crack. He found himself at the front of the church behind the lectern, in view of the altar. He could hear the voices clearly and easily identified both. He pushed the door open a little further and saw a pair of dirty sneakers hanging over the edge of the altar.  
  
"I knew it," he whispered between clenched teeth.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Leave her alone." Duncan insisted stepping closer to Aldius.  
  
"You have a choice, MacLeod, your life or hers."  
  
"Mortals are not pawns."  
  
"This one is." He lifted a dagger, letting the tip hover over Rylan's chest. "She won't be as lucky as that boy of yours. What was his name again, Cole?"  
  
"It's Richie." A third voice corrected. Duncan's eyes searched out the source of the new voice. He hadn't noticed Richie sneak into the church. But, he did notice the glint of steel in his hand. Richie held up the sword and advanced on Aldius. "Kill him, MacLeod. Kill him or I will."  
  
"Richie get out of here." Duncan ordered.  
  
"Not until this jerk is dead."  
  
"Now! Get Rylan and go!"  
  
"I'm not leaving until this is finished!" Richie yelled.  
  
"We're in a church, he can't do anything." Aldius interjected smugly.  
  
"Then I'll do it." Richie spat swinging the blade through the air. "Like you said, there's nothing in the rules about mortals. I can do whatever I want."  
  
The man laughed, "I'd like to see you try, boy."  
  
"Richie, stop it!" Duncan shouted. Aldius turned to him.  
  
"Really, if you're going to keep him- - -" he stopped mid-sentence and stared in shock at the blood streaming out of his chest. He looked back at Duncan and collapsed. 


	8. False Resolution

The human shield that had blocked Duncan's view of Richie fell to the ground. The boy stood, hand empty glaring down at the fallen immortal.  
  
"Kill him." He instructed.  
  
"Richie, what did you do?" Duncan asked in disbelief, riveted to the ground.  
  
"I started what you have to finish."  
  
Duncan found his legs and slowly approached the altar. He stared into Richie's eyes and found no remorse, only a deep well of pain, anger, and malice.  
  
"Finish it, MacLeod." The boy repeated before turning his attention to Rylan.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Duncan paced back and forth in front of Aldius' still body. He didn't know much of anything about the man, except that he was a couple thousand years older than he was, and he used the people closest to other immortals to get their quickenings. Holy Ground was his favorite place to confront other immortals. He offered them the same deal he had offered Duncan, and had always gotten away with it, until now. Duncan fought the urge to just take the man's head and get it over with. They weren't on Holy Ground anymore; he had drug the body out the back way Richie had come in. The park behind the cathedral belonged to the city; anything Duncan did here would be perfectly legal. He made his decision. He stood over the man with his katana raised, ready for the fatal blow.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie lightly slapped Rylan's face.  
  
"Come on, Ry, wake up." She didn't respond, so he gently maneuvered her into a sitting position. "Work with me here. I can't carry you, you have to wake up." He groaned, laid her back down, and tapped her on the face again. "Come on, come on." He muttered.  
  
He stepped back and looked at her chest steadily rising and falling. Her skin had a pale hue to it. Frowning, he reached out to her wrist to find a pulse, but as he turned her arm over something caught his eye: a bruise forming in the crook of her left arm.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Aldius awoke to Duncan standing over him.  
  
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't take your head right now." Duncan growled.  
  
"I have no chance to defend myself."  
  
The memories of what had happened in the cathedral over the past week and a half played through Duncan's mind. He knew Richie hadn't gotten a chance to defend himself, and he doubted Rylan had either. Anger flashed through his eyes.  
  
"You'll have to do better than that." He sneered.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie looked up as the lights of the cathedral flickered, then went out. An eerie glow from the candles illuminated the altar. Bright lights flashed in the sky outside, and winds howled sending a shiver down the boy's back. For the first time since he had re-entered the cathedral, Richie was scared. His stomach tied itself into a knot as the thought that Duncan might not have won entered his mind. He heard that back door to the cathedral open and footsteps jogging down the hall. He picked up the discarded sword from the ground. Seeing the blood on the blade made his heart skip a beat.  
  
"Richie?" Duncan called as he ascended the stairs. He stopped in the doorway and looked at Richie, who stood facing him, sword up ready to fight. Slowly the boy lowered the weapon and the two looked at each other. "What do you say we get out of here?" Duncan asked quietly. Without a word Richie turned to face Rylan. Then he turned back around, looked at the floor, and mumbled something. "Richie, I can't understand you when you do that."  
  
Richie lifted his eyes to meet Duncan's. "I said, you get her. I can't pick her up." He said just loud enough to be understood. Duncan repressed his smile.  
  
"Not a problem." He said moving to gather the girl in his arms. "That gut of yours still giving you problems?" He asked trying to keep the conversation going.  
  
"Yeah." Richie answered softly. "Careful, she's heavier than she looks." He warned.  
  
"You're right." Duncan grunted as he lifted Rylan up.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Rylan moaned softly as Duncan put her on the bed. He looked at the bruise on her arm.  
  
"I wonder how much he used." He said softly.  
  
"How much of what?" Richie asked.  
  
"He had to have used some kind of sedative to keep her out this long. When she wakes up depends on how much he used. And what he used."  
  
"Should we take her to the hospital?" Tessa asked brushing Rylan's hair out of her eyes.  
  
"She already looks better than she did. I think it should ware off in a little while."  
  
"You think?" Richie repeated. "What if you think wrong? What if this is serious?"  
  
"It shouldn't be."  
  
"Shouldn't be?! That's not good enough!" Richie spat.  
  
"Richie, calm down, Duncan knows what he's talking about." Tessa said softly.  
  
"He always does, doesn't he?" Richie turned and stalked out of the room.  
  
Duncan stared after him, open-mouthed. "I don't understand him! We were just fine a couple minutes ago! Why is he so angry?" he yelled slamming the door closed. Tessa looked up from her seat beside the bed.  
  
"He's worried, and he probably doesn't understand what's happening. Don't be so short with him. I don't know about you, but I remember what I was like as a teenager. Sudden bursts of anger are natural. He'll get over it." She watched Duncan pace the length of the room.  
  
"It's been over a week." He finally said, fighting to keep his voice calm. "It's never been this bad before. He barely talks to me and when he does, he only yells. There's more to do with this than just 'he's a teenager'. Something is seriously wrong with him."  
  
"Then ask him if you're so worried." Tessa answered. "Don't yell, don't judge, just ask and listen."  
  
"I will." Duncan said resolutely turning to find where the boy went. 


	9. Resolution

Duncan found Richie busing himself in the kitchen with the dirty dishes.  
  
"Hey," he said. Richie didn't look up. "I'm sure those can wait. I want to talk to you."  
  
"So talk." Richie squirted soap into the hot water.  
  
"It'd be nice if you'd at least look at me." Duncan said as calmly as he could.  
  
"I can hear you just fine. I don't need to read your lips, too."  
  
"Are you just trying to annoy me?" Duncan asked. Richie's posture shifted as he weighed his responses.  
  
"No," he finally said, "I'm trying to ignore you. Annoying you is just a bonus."  
  
Duncan groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. "Why are you so mad at me?"  
  
"Do you know why people ignore other people?" Richie asked in annoyance. "It's so they'll go away."  
  
"Are you going to answer me?" Richie continued to wash dishes. "I'm just going to follow you around asking questions until I start getting some answers," Duncan declared. Richie continued to wash dishes. "I thought I told you to stay here."  
  
"That's not a question."  
  
"Fine, didn't I tell you to stay here?" Duncan asked. Richie continued to wash dishes. "Why do you insist on getting involved? Why are you so hell bent on getting yourself killed? Is it your life's goal to break the world's record for near death experiences? Why did you follow me?"  
  
"I was worried about Rylan," Richie answered simply.  
  
"I can take care of her."  
  
"Like you took care of me?" Richie asked turning to face Duncan.  
  
"What? Richie, I'm not going to let anything happen to her."  
  
"Funny, I've that before. Multiple times actually. And we all know where that promise gets you."  
  
"What is that supposed to mean? What are you talking about?"  
  
Richie rolled his eyes, "Oh, nothing. Forget I said anything." He turned back to the dishes.  
  
"Wait. You're still caught on what Aldius did to you." Duncan said, as the souse of Richie's anger became clear to him. "You blame me, don't you?" Richie continued washing dishes. "Richie, do you blame me or not?"  
  
"Yeah, MacLeod, I do. I got skewered and you just stood there." Richie refused to face Duncan as he spoke. "And what burns me the most is I defended you to that guy. He had his sword at my throat and, instead of shutting my big trap, all I could do was talk about how great you were, and how he was no match for you. Then, you showed up and shot my theory to hell! I guess he was right, you can't idolize someone until you really know them." He stopped scrubbing and stared at the wall waiting for Duncan's reaction. Nobody spoke for what seemed like an eternity. Until, Richie quietly broke the silence. "Look, I know what you're thinking. I never really though about it, and I guess I might have before, but I definitely don't now, so don't worry about it."  
  
Duncan's mind filled with questions, but he decided to avoid talking about Richie's heroes, for now.  
  
"I didn't react as quickly as I should have. And so I guess what happened to you is partly my fault, but there was nothing I really could have done, immortals can't fight on Holy Ground."  
  
"But they can kabob or sacrifice anyone else they want, is that how it works?" Richie exploded slamming pots into the cupboards. "For once in you life, act without thinking about the damn rules first!"  
  
"Like you, the kid that nearly gets himself killed everyother week?" Duncan shot back. "Watch it, you're going to hurt yourself." He warned when he saw Richie cringe as he bent down to put the dish soap under the sink. When the boy didn't immediately get back up, Duncan moved to help him. Richie jumped at his touch.  
  
"Get off me!" he barked whirling to face him.  
  
"Richie, calm down. Don't over-exert yourself. . ." Duncan said calmly, noting Richie's paled complexion.  
  
"This may or may not surprise you, but I've done this before, and I know what I can and can't do!" Richie yelled trying to walk past Duncan and to his room, but half way across the living room he felt like someone had kicked him in the chest. He reached behind him and supported himself with the help of the wall. A wave of nausea and dizziness enveloped him. Slowly he slid himself to the floor. He panted and rested his head in his arms.  
  
"Richie!" Duncan called after him angrily, then stopped spotting him crouched in the hallway. "Richie?" he rushed to him. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Leave me alone," he mumbled weakly as Duncan pulled him to his feet.  
  
"Oh, shut up." Duncan said lightly and guided him gently to the couch. "Sit," he ordered. Richie fought him for a brief second, then sank obediently into the cushions. "I told you," Duncan said softly checking the boy for a temperature.  
  
"Get off it," he grumbled.  
  
"What am I going to do with you?" Duncan asked him. "You can't keep jumping in, you're going to get yourself killed."  
  
"Mac- -"  
  
"Just listen. I know you pretty much hate me right now, but the fact remains that fighting any other immortals is my job. I've been doing it for a long time, and I know what to do. Don't give me that look." The color had returned to Richie's face, and so had his strong look of annoyance. "Believe it or not, I've made some mistakes. . ."  
  
"Oh, I believe it."  
  
". . .in 400 years you have plenty of chances. But is seems to me you've taken every chance you've gotten to- - - You've made some mistakes, too." He corrected. "But I promise, if anyone messes with my family. . . and that includes you, so don't even start. . . their head is mine. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. But if I. . .or you. . .screw up, you are going to have to trust that I can fix it. Okay?"  
  
Richie looked away then looked back, a medley of emotions dancing across his young face. "Okay," he finally answered.  
  
Duncan smiled, "This doesn't mean that you're going to start talking again does it?"  
  
Richie returned the smile, "I'm not that gregarious."  
  
"I was kind of getting used to. . . Gregarious?"  
  
"It means talkative." Richie explained with a smirk.  
  
"I know what it means. How many big words do you have stowed up there?" Duncan asked ruffling Richie's hair.  
  
"I got at 1510 on my SATs."  
  
"A 1510?" Duncan repeated. "You mean you actually took the SATs?"  
  
"Yeah," Richie shrugged, "I wanted to know what I would get, so I took the test. One of the most boring days of - - -"  
  
"RICHIE!!" a panicked scream filled the apartment. 


	10. Dreams

Author's note: I have to admit, half way through this chapter I got totally stuck, I knew what I wanted to do, but couldn't figure out how to do it. So I've been reading a lot of other fics and came across one called "Don't Go To Warlock" by wuemsel under Diagnosis Murder and it inspired me to get this thing going again. So I must give credit where credit is due.  
  
Wuemsel, if you're reading this and a part of it sounds slightly familiar, yes I got it from you. I hope you don't mind, but if you do tell me and I'll think of something and change it.  
  
. . . . . .  
Richie and Duncan ran into the room. Tessa stood over Rylan tentatively reaching out to her, but each time she got close enough to actually touch the girl, she would thrash out a limb and Tessa would jump back.  
  
"Ry?" Richie asked stepping closer to the bed.  
  
"She's still asleep. She's having a nightmare." Tessa explained in near panic.  
  
"NO! RICHIE HELP ME!" Rylan screamed fighting against some unseen force.  
  
"Rylan, I'm right here." He said lightly shaking her foot. She kicked out and hit him in the stomach. He stumbled back a few paces and looked bewilderedly at Duncan.  
  
Duncan watched Rylan claw at the air, still begging for help. "We have to wake her up before she hurts herself." Richie nodded and skirted the bed. "No, Richie let me do it." Duncan said gently pulling the boy aside.  
  
"Mac." Richie protested.  
  
"Let me handle this." Duncan slowly reached out and held his hands a few inches about her flailing arms. "If she starts kicking, you'll have to hold her feet down." He instructed Richie, who obediently made his way to the foot of the bed. "You ready?"  
  
"She's not going to like this." The boy warned.  
  
Duncan waited a few more seconds before making his move. Just as her hands went up, his went down grabbing her around the wrists. She screamed at the sudden contact. He pinned her arms to the bed and called her name quietly, trying to wake her. She fought against him, still asleep. He kept his grip as gentle as he could with out letting go of her. He could fell Richie desperately trying to get a grip on her ankles as she tried to kick her way free of Duncan's grip.  
  
"Got her." Richie announced, as her flailing subsided into desperate jerks.  
  
"Rylan!" Duncan tried again.  
  
"Mac, what's wrong with her?" Richie asked fighting to keep his grip. Duncan shook his head and looked down at her.  
  
"Richie, come up here." The second the boy let go of her feet she started kicking again. "Get her feet!" He changed his mind as her knee came in contact with his head. Richie once again moved to restrain her. "Okay, Tessa get me some water. Richie, you don't suppose we could switch places, do you?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I think you're the one that needs to wake her up."  
  
"Okay, so how do you propose we do it?" Richie asked adjusting his hold.  
  
Duncan thought for a moment. "If I can hold her down, you can do what you have to to wake her up."  
  
"Hold her down by yourself?" Her foot once again began to slide from his hand.  
  
"Sure." Duncan responded.  
  
"NO, PLEASE!" Rylan yelled.  
  
Duncan shifted his weight and swung one leg up and over the girl. He settled his knees on either side of her hips, and held her legs to the bed with his.  
  
"Okay, I got her." He said looking over his shoulder at Richie, who slowly let go.  
  
"Mac, she's gonna freak." He warned.  
  
A soft whimper escaped from Rylan's lips and Duncan turned to face her. Her eyes were open, clouded by confusion, fear, and betrayal. She began struggling more violently.  
  
"GET OFF ME! LET ME GO!"  
  
"Rylan, shh." Duncan soothed. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."  
  
"Duncan!" Tessa said in surprise from the doorway, staring at him ontop of Rylan.  
  
"Tessa! Get him off me!" Rylan pleaded her voice tight.  
  
"Rylan, no it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Duncan repeated.  
  
"Mac, get off her." Richie said crawling onto the bed beside them. Rylan looked turned her head and looked at him. Duncan let go of her and went over to Tessa. "Ry, you okay?" Richie asked as she slowly sat up. She merely nodded and kept her eyes on Duncan. "You sure?" She nodded again.  
  
Duncan stepped forward and offered her the water Tessa had brought. Rylan scooted back in the bed and stared in horror at his advancement. Richie smiled sheepishly, as if apologizing for her behavior, and took the glass.  
  
"Here." He pressed it into her hands. She held it, but continued to watch Duncan closely as he backed away. Richie gently cupped her chin in his hand and turned her to face him. "Ry, drink." She gazed up at him. "It's okay," he assured her. Slowly she raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. "See? Nothing happened."  
  
Tessa lightly tugged on Duncan's arm and gestured him to follow her out of the room. He looked up at Richie, who gave him a slight nod, and reluctantly followed.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Just give her some time, she's probably a little confused." Tessa said softly guiding Duncan to the kitchen table.  
  
"Did you see how scared she was?" He asked not able to get her panicked face out of his mind.  
  
"Can you blame her?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"She didn't exactly choose the best time to wake up. That was a very compromising position you had her in."  
  
"I should have listened to Richie. He knew what she was going to do when she woke up with me holding her like that. I should have know, too."  
  
"He thought she was going to. You had all the right intentions, and he'll explain that to her. Everything will be fine and back to normal in no time, you'll see."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie watched as Rylan gulped down the glass of water.  
  
"Thirsty?" He asked with a grin. She stared down at the empty glass in her hands. "You want more?" She handed him the glass, but remained silent. "I'll take that as a yes. I'll be right back." She grabbed his arm. "What?" he asked furrowing his brow. She tightened her grip and pulled him toward her. "You can't have it both ways, girly." He said pulling himself free. "Besides, what's going to happen to you here? I'll be two feet away. . . Mac, too." He added. "You'll be fine."  
  
Richie walked into the kitchen and found Tessa consoling Duncan at the table.  
  
"Should I give her something else?" He asked holding up the empty glass.  
  
"Juice." Duncan answered.  
  
"Okay," He turned and retrieved the pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator. "Mac," he started turning back around as he filled the glass. "She doesn't mean it. She just freaked out. She probably didn't even realize it was you."  
  
"I know." He answered softly. "I've just never seen anyone so scared of me before. I'm used to being the hero, not the villain. She wouldn't even talk in front of me."  
  
"Mac, she's not talking period. We're practically playing charades in there. It's not you." Richie assured him. "If I annoy her enough she'll say something. Then you won't be able to shut her up." He added, feeling uncomfortable in the dominant role. Being the one with all the answers. "Can she eat anything?" He asked changing the subject and letting Duncan take charge again.  
  
"Not now, maybe later."  
  
"Okay."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Rylan was sitting in the same position Richie had left her in when he returned.  
  
"You're been upgraded." He commented holding the glass out to her. She looked at him skeptically for a second then reached out for it. He pulled it back and she put her hand down with a confused frown. "Do you want it?" He asked. She looked at him, then reached for it again. "Say it," he instructed holding the juice just out of her grasp. She leaned forward and he took a step back. "What do you say?" His teasing tone masking his near desperation to get her to speak.  
  
Exasperated, she leaned back against wall, crossed her arms, and glared at him. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Fine you win. You know I hate it when you pout." He walked over and held the glass out to her. "Mac'd probably kill me if he found out I was depriving you of anything, anyway."  
  
Slowly she reached out, then grabbed the glass from his hand before he could pull it away again.  
  
"So what's with the silent treatment?" He asked watching her drink. She looked at him briefly, then looked away. "Ry, what's wrong?"  
  
She looked across the room and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Suddenly she looked at him with a strange twinkle in her eye.  
  
"What?" he asked, relieved and confused by her sudden change of attitude. She handed him her glass and scooted to the edge of the bed. "Gotta pee?" He asked hoping to at least get a laugh out of her. She stood up and looked at him with a sarcastic smile. "What then?"  
  
She took a few cautious steps, found her balance, then made her way across the room and gently picked up his guitar and spiral. Richie watched her closely as she walked back to him. She solemnly handed him the guitar, sat back down, and placed the spiral on the bed between them.  
  
"You're kidding, right?" he asked. She smiled and shook her head no. "Aw, come on, Ry." She reached out and closed his fingers around the neck of the guitar and led his right hand to strum the stings. A sour chord sounded in the room. "I could have told you that was going to happen." He said absentmindedly turning the pegs to get the strings in tune. She pushed the notebook closer to him and smiled hopefully. "Fine, fine, fine. What do you want to hear?"  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Duncan and Tessa looked up as a strange sound came from Richie and Rylan's room.  
  
"What was that?" Tessa asked.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Let's go see." She stood up and dragged Duncan behind her down the hall.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie turned the pages of lyrics and read out titles.  
  
"How about 'Relinquished' or 'Status Symbol'?" he asked twisting away as she reached out for the book. "What about 'If I Ever Leave This World Alive'?" She grabbed for the book and he held it above his head. "Which one? If you don't tell me I'll just start making up one as I go along." She pulled his arm down and took the spiral. She flipped through the pages, made her selection, and handed it to him. "I know you want one of mine, but which one? I can't read minds, you know." He turned a couple pages. "What about- -" She took the book back, found the song again, and purposefully handed it back to him. "This one?" he looked down at the book. "You sure you don't want- - "  
  
"No." Rylan said softly, but forcefully. "This one." She put the book on the bed in front of him.  
  
"Okay. See, it's so much easier to get what you want when you actually say something." He said pleased with his accomplishment. He glanced over Rylan's shoulder and briefly allowed his eyes to lock with Duncan's. He had noticed the door open a crack while he was annoying Rylan into talking. Duncan smiled wearily at him and motioned for him to continue. 


	11. Rationality

Once again, the song isn't mine. This one is Garth Brooks. . .I promise no more country after this, they just seem to be fitting in well with the stories. As always, please review! Even if you hate it, I'd love to hear from you.  
  
Richie lightly strummed a few chords and swallowed. He hadn't been planning on letting anyone hear this particular song. . . especially Duncan. But he had teased Rylan into talking to him, so he felt he had to sing it, and pray that Duncan didn't figure out what had inspired the song. Not that it wasn't blatantly obvious, but he could still hope. He cleared his throat.  
  
"Sometimes I tell you the way that I feel  
  
And I swear that I'm going crazy.  
  
I keep telling myself it's not that big a deal  
  
It's better than pushing up daises.  
I felt the arrow of death's fatal quiver  
  
Come so close it actually grazed me;  
  
I bled the blood and I felt the cold shiver  
  
God only knows how he saved me.  
There's two dates in time that they'll carve on your stone  
  
And everyone knows what they mean  
  
But what's more important is the time that is know  
  
In that little dash there in-between.  
  
That little dash there in-between."  
"It's pretty." Rylan said when he was finished.  
  
"Eh," he shrugged indifferently.  
  
"Eh?" Duncan repeated stepping into the room. Rylan's back stiffened, but she remained where she was. "It was great."  
  
"It was eh." Richie answered.  
  
"If you say so." Duncan answered eyeing Rylan, who hadn't moved since he spoke and still sat stiffly on the bed with her back to him. "How are you feeling?" He asked putting his hand lightly on her shoulder. She jumped slightly, but allowed his hand to remain.  
  
"Eh." She answered quietly, casting a shy smirk at Richie.  
  
"Are you hungry?" Duncan asked moving to stand in her line of vision.  
  
"No." Her eyes met his and she stared at him, as if she was still trying to figure out who he was. She looked behind her as Tessa entered the room.  
  
"Are you sure?" Tessa asked, putting her hand on Rylan's shoulder. Duncan felt a twinge of jealousy as the girl's entire body relaxed with the simple touch.  
  
"Yes." Rylan answered with a yawn.  
  
"You tired?" Richie asked, shooting a concerned look over his shoulder at Duncan.  
  
"Is that bad?" Rylan asked slightly confused by his sudden alarm, also looking up at Duncan.  
  
"No, it's fine." He assured her. "You might be for a while."  
  
"Oh," she nodded, yawning again.  
  
"Why don't you get some sleep. And then we'll see if you're hungry." Tessa said shooing Richie off the bed.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie and Duncan stood uselessly in the hall not quite sure what to do with themselves since Tessa had banished them from Rylan's side. Richie stood watching the door and waiting for some kind of instructions as to what to do next, while Duncan stared at the wall trying to sort out the evening's events in his head. He was still hurt by Rylan's reaction to him, but tried to comfort himself with the fact that she didn't jump away from him like she had before. Both men straitened their hunched shoulders when Tessa opened the door and stepped into the hallway.  
  
"She wants to talk to you." She said softly. Automatically, Richie stepped forward. "Not you, Duncan." Looking slightly confused Duncan walked around Tessa and closed the door behind him. "I, however, would like a word with you." Not quite sure what to make out of Tessa's tone, Richie followed her into the workshop.  
  
"What's up?" He asked.  
  
"Duncan told me what happened."  
  
"Oh?" Richie tried to keep his tone light, but his stomach turned itself in knots with a twinge of fear.  
  
"How could you do that?" She demanded.  
  
Richie swallowed. "Do what?" he asked innocently.  
  
"This!" She held up the still bloodstained sword that he had taken form the store. "Richie, you killed that man."  
  
"Not really." He answered softly avoiding her glare.  
  
"Not really?! Look at this!" She thrust the blade under his nose. He jumped back and lightly pushed the blade away.  
  
"Can you put that down if you're going to yell at me?" He managed to squeak out.  
  
"Don't try and be cute with me! That won't get you out of this!"  
  
"All I'm trying to do is keep you from killing someone." He answered before he realized what he was saying.  
  
"Like you?" She raged.  
  
Richie's nostrils flared. "I didn't kill anyone! Mac did, I didn't! I just slowed the guy down! The worst thing I did was ruin his shirt!" He defended. "Don't look at me like that." He added almost pitifully.  
  
"Like what?" she demanded, her anger not wavering for a second.  
  
"Like I'm some kind of murder or something. I didn't do anything!"  
  
"How can you say that?"  
  
"Because I didn't!"  
  
"Tessa, leave him alone." Duncan said gently from the doorway. "He didn't do anything wrong."  
  
"See?" Richie said proudly. Then realizing how childish he sounded he added, "Thank you, Mac."  
  
"Go inside." Duncan said.  
  
"But- -"  
  
"Richie, go." He repeated firmly.  
  
Tessa watched Richie retreat into the apartment. "Duncan, how can you say that?"  
  
"Tessa, he didn't feel he had a choice. He did what he felt he had to do." Duncan explained calmly.  
  
"But he- - -"  
  
"Protected Rylan."  
  
"By killing!?"  
  
"He can't start getting queasy about it now." Duncan answered outloud not meaning to.  
  
"What?" Tessa asked.  
  
"If he can rationalize it, let him. Just drop it, okay?"  
  
"There's something you're not telling me." Tessa said looking into Duncan's eyes. "I thought you wanted to keep Richie out of all of this. And now it's like you've given up."  
  
"If he wants to keep jumping in, there's nothing I can do about it. I can tell him what to do until I'm blue in the face, it doesn't work. He gets involved because he's drawn to it."  
  
"What are you talking about?" She demanded. He looked away. "Duncan tell me. What do you mean he's drawn to- - -" Tessa stopped and explored Duncan's expression. "He's not. . .He can't be. . .He isn't. . .is he?" She fumbled over her words.  
  
"Tessa I . . ." Duncan stuttered.  
  
"That's why you wanted him to stay with us. So you could. . ."  
  
"You can't tell him. He takes enough chances as it is." Duncan half instructed/half pleaded with her.  
  
"But he- - -"  
  
"Not a word." He said a little more forcefully.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie looked up from his book as the door opened. He shifted uncomfortably under Tessa's gaze. She walked over to where he sat on the couch and placed her hand on his cheek. For lack of words, he gave her a goofy grin and raised his eyebrows in question to her action.  
  
"What?" he finally asked. She made a soft whimpering sound and turned abruptly for her bedroom. Richie turned to Duncan. "What's with her? Two seconds ago she wouldn't stop screaming at me, and now she doesn't say a word."  
  
Duncan shrugged, "Women." 


	12. Deliver Me

Okay, here it is, the end of this story. There is another one swimming around in my head. . .who knows it might actually show up at some point. Thank you for all the reviews, it makes me smile everytime I open my e-mail and see that beautiful bot@fanfiction.net [Review Alert!]. Well anyway, I guess I'll get onto this story now. Little disclaimer.once again the song isn't mine, but unfortunately I don't know who's it is. But, I can tell you were to find it. . . that beautiful little montoge of Richie wondering around the city looking for Mr. Stubs (AKA Mr. Tubby) in the episode 'Family Tree'. And you want to know how I got the words? I sat in front of my tv for twenty minutes rewinding the scene over and over and scribbling in my note book. . .so if they're a little off, I'm sorry. You can always e-mail me the corrections and I can fix them.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Ah, ah, ah!" Richie scolded taking the cheesecake from Rylan. "You know what Mac said. No rich foods for awhile."  
  
"He said that a week ago. It has been awhile. I'm fine." She insisted taking the plate back. "And I'm starving."  
  
"You're going to be puking all night. And I'm not holding you hair this time."  
  
"Am not. And it's not like I asked you to."  
  
"Rylan!" Tessa said from the doorway. Rylan froze, the fork in the air and her mouth hanging open.  
  
Richie smirked. "Told ya. OW! What was that for?" He asked rubbing his head where Tessa had hit him.  
  
"You were just going to let her eat that?"  
  
"Hey, I tried. It's not my fault she doesn't listen to me."  
  
Tessa reached over, took the plate from Rylan, and handed it to Richie. "How hard was that?"  
  
"But- -I- - aw, man. How is it that I get in trouble everytime she does something wrong?"  
  
"Because you're the oldest." Rylan smiled.  
  
"Ha, ha." He answered dryly taking a bite of the cheesecake Tessa had confiscated. "At least I get to eat what I want."  
  
Rylan's face fell. "That is so mean."  
  
"You're going to spoil your appetite." Tessa warned.  
  
"Tessa, I am appalled. You actually think I can ruin my appetite? It never has, and probably never will happen." Richie scoffed taking another bite.  
  
She laughed, "That's right, I forgot how much of a bottomless pit you were."  
  
They were still standing in the kitchen talking when Duncan returned caring two bags filled with Chinese take-out.  
  
"More food I can't eat?" Rylan pouted.  
  
"I don't see why can't have some of it. Just take it easy." He answered.  
  
"It's about time."  
  
"Don't make me out to be the bad guy. It's not my fault you couldn't hold down anything for more than five minutes."  
  
"It wasn't my fault either." She defended with a smile.  
  
"Well I didn't drug you."  
  
"That's besides the point, Mac." Richie interrupted. "You got between a teenager and her food. That's about as villainous as you can get."  
  
Something flashed across Duncan's face. Only then did Richie remember the words Duncan had used to describe Rylan's reaction to him when she had woken up. But whatever uneasiness she had felt around him had passed. She even seemed to be making up for it by doing something or going with him anytime that he offered. She currently had drug him over to the table and was demanding an explanation as to why she couldn't have any General Chu shrimp.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
A couple hours later Rylan and Richie had decided to call it a night. They changed and got into their beds and waited for sleep to come  
  
"Hey, Ry? Can I ask you a question?" Richie asked rolling over to face her.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"What happened last week?"  
  
"Last week?"  
  
"Yeah you know, the whole. . .thing with, um. . ."  
  
"Oh, that. Honestly, I don't remember much. One minute I'm sneaking out after fourth period, the next I'm here with. . ." she paused, "everyone standing around me," she finished  
  
"You were skipping?" Richie laughed.  
  
"Yeah, well you know how it is. Sometimes you're just not in the mood."  
  
"So where were you, exactly?"  
  
"Not in history, I can tell you that much."  
  
"Oh," he stared at the ceiling for a minute. "Hey, Ry?"  
  
"Just get it out of your system, man," she sighed.  
  
"Why were you screaming?"  
  
Rylan propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him. "When?"  
  
"Well, just before you woke up you were screaming and flailing around. Why?"  
  
"I don't know, nightmares I guess." She answered biting her lip and looking at the floor as she spoke. Richie didn't seem to notice her behavior.  
  
"You just seemed really freaked out, whatever it was."  
  
"Not a clue," she shrugged. "Why do you want to know?"  
  
"Oh, just curious," Richie answered softly. "It was kind of weird."  
  
"What was I screaming?"  
  
"Oh, you know, the usual stuff help, help and all that jazz." He answered casually.  
  
"Huh." She grunted softly and rolled onto her back.  
  
They lapsed into silence and soon Rylan's even breathing was the only sound in the room. Richie rolled onto his side and watched her sleep. For the first time the adventure and glamour of life with immortals faded from his mind. It's whole appeal left him. In it's place a strange surge of dread filled him. He had always thought that having immortality would be the coolest thing that could happen to someone. But that night in the cathedral had been the first time he had experienced what it was like from the other side. He had been the one with the sword in his hand. He had been the one doing the rescuing. He had done the killing.  
  
'No,' he quickly reminded himself. 'Mac killed the guy. You can't kill and immortal by stabbing them. You have to take their head, which you didn't. Even Mac agrees with you.'  
  
He lay quietly in bed and listened to the thunder rolling in the distance. He looked at the clock and was startled to find he had been lying there for three hours, it was one seventeen a.m. Richie hadn't noticed that he had been humming, until he noticed he had stopped. He tried to remember the melody, but all that came to him was the words. He smiled; he loved it when this happened, when a song just came to him. He hadn't even been trying; he had just been thinking about anything that came to mind: his childhood, Mac, Angie, Tessa, immortals, Emily, God. . .He grabbed his spiral, went into the living room, and wrote.  
  
'God, won't you deliver me  
  
From the bane of my confusion.  
  
Growing up in the city streets  
  
In a desperate situation  
  
Crying over this deep despair  
  
Because there is nothing right  
  
There is a crying angel watching over me  
  
That is keeping me alive  
  
Oh God, deliver me  
  
I have lost my innocence  
  
And I have lost my pride  
  
And everytime I looked at her  
  
You know my mama cried  
  
She said, what could I do different  
  
There's no one there for me.  
  
What could I do different?  
  
I'm just trying to survive  
  
Oh God, deliver me'  
  
Satisfied, he closed the spiral and let his eyes blur out of focus.  
  
'Oh, God deliver me.' He thought as an involuntary grin crept across his face. 'But not for awhile, everything is pretty okay down here. Although, don't get offended if I stay away from churches for a while. Holy Ground can be a dangerous place.' 


End file.
